The Demon On Your Shoulder
by As-Long-As-I'm-Around
Summary: Sometimes demons are not supernatural. 'They tell him not to take it personally. But Sam did, and he was sure Dean would too.' Sam's teacher isn't very nice... Overprotective, Pissed Dean! John comes in later, too. Hurt! Sam!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So..it's probably a little heavy with the over-protectiveness, and in the first chapter but .. I just love overprotective Dean. And it fits, I promise...anyway I know this idea has been done so often before.. but I want to try my own one. Anyway just read and tell me what you think...be nice. Thanks!**

Damn, damn it to hell, damn-

Sam used every cuss word he knew, and then some more. He stole Dean's vocabulary, something Dean would have hated him to do so because even though he swore, it didn't mean his little brother had to.

But-damn-damn this day, damn school and damn the new teacher. His brow furrowed deeper as he remembered the way the teacher targeted him, the A student, hell bent on breaking him to the point of no return.

And it had only been a freaking _week_. Sam scowled as he trudged up to the door, only to spin around in fright as tires came screeching up the motel park way. Sam saw the Impala come to a jerking stop before it was smoothly parked. His eyes widened as a very pissed off Dean stepped out, eyes searching, before landing an intense glare in his direction.

_Crap._

Sam scurried for his keys and had just opened the door when it came.

"Sam, I'm going to _kill_ you! I freaking _mean it_ little brother!" Crap, crap damn it to hell…Sam scurried inside and slammed the door, cutting off his brother's heavy footsteps.

A pissed off Dean was good when he was on your side. If you hurt Sam Winchester in any form, you better believe you were going to pay for it. And good luck to you. If Sam Winchester pissed off Dean regarding his safety or putting himself in danger… well then Sam Winchester was in trouble. Dean didn't like it very much when Sam wasn't in his view, or if he didn't know what Sam was doing, where he was going. Or, if Sam disobeyed something Dean had told him numerous times to do...No, he didn't like that very much at all. An exploding Dean meant to run and take cover-if you could get away.

And Sam tried. He was just unlocking the bathroom door when a hand wrenched him back, careful enough not to cause any injury but harsh enough to get the message through. Dean spun Sam around to face him, and Sam felt the intensity of his brother's anger before he even looked at him.

So, he didn't. He stared at the floor, finding the fading pattern of the carpet very interesting.

"You little _brat_! This is the _third time_ I've told you to wait for me…_and not walk the five miles home_! I didn't raise you to be an idiot!" Sam tried to push away from Dean, but Dean's hold didn't relent, only tightened. Sam balanced at the insult, snapping back,

"'M not an idiot! I can take care of myself! That's how you raised me!"

"Yes but that's when I'm not around to take care of you." Sam rolled his eyes at this.

"I'm not a _baby!_ And I needed the air!" Dean looked at him in disbelief now.

"You're my baby brother. And, I don't care if you needed the air! You could have stuck your head out the window. Sam, anything could have happened to you!"

"Oh yeah…it's daylight and there were people around! And…it's just the road Dean!" Now Sam was getting fired up, but Sam's anger was no match against an older brother's. But Dean's voice was quiet in volume when he spoke next, but loud with desperation.

"Sam, you don't know what could happen. You need to follow orders when I give them. I need you to trust me and I need you to do what I say."

Sam clamped his mouth shut, and Dean sighed, loosening his grip slightly but leaning in close to his brother, preventing him from doing anything but looking straight at Dean.

"You've never pulling this crap before." Sam gulped. Crap, Dean was suspicious. A suspicious Dean was almost as scary as an angry Dean, because if Dean was suspcious about Sam Winchester, you knew he was gonna damn well find out.

"We've never stayed in a place long enough." Sam tried. Dean looked at him closely, most of the anger now gone and replaced by thoughtfulness.

Sam continued.

"Not a big deal, anyway. 'M thirteen years old-almost fourteen."

"Don't care if you're eighteen, Sam. You do as I tell you." Dean's voice was gruff, the intention hidden among it.

"Fine." Sam sulked. Always a lesser-never an equal. Too bad he didn't know Dean thought very differently.

"Understand me Sam? Next time I won't be so forgiving."

_'Call this forgiving?'_ But Sam was smart enough not to say that out loud.

"Yep. Now, can I go?"

"Go where?"

Sam fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"To my room?" Sam didn't wait for an answer, instead, he hurled himself out of his brother's hold and went to walk past him.

_"Wait."_ He didn't have a choice as Dean stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"Why'd you need air? Something going on that I should know about?" Sam wasn't prepared for that, so of course he tensed the hell up.

Why was Dean so observant today? Of course he was always observant, but to this extent was, well, scary.

Dean was looking at him, a smug kind of look on his face.

"So. What is it?" Dean pressed.

"Nothing-just surprised me." Sam muttered, looking away, knowing full well that that answer wasn't going to go down well.

Dean's face was now full of open disbelief now.

"Yeah, Sam. I get scaed too when I'm just surprised. Wanna try again?"

"No." Sam said wearily.

"Wasn't a suggestion." Dean's hawk gaze had intensfied, burning.

"Just had a bad day Dean. Bound to happen-can't protect me from them."

Dean's expression showed just the opposite-that Sam better believe that he damn well could.

"The hell I can't. You had three bad days, Sammy?" This, to Sam, was getting beyond the point of ridiciolous, and he wondered what Dean's problem was.

"Nah, the other two were just nice days."

"Sam." Dean barked, also fed up with this.

"Dean I'm fine. Please just drop it."

Their eyes met, and there was an almost deathly silence. Sam clenched his fists as he tried to copy his brother's poker face. But no one could do it as well as Dean-not even his father.

Dean stared, impressed by Sam's commitmet to keep up the facade. To the naked eye Sam was blank, but Dean knew his brother so well that it was damn near scary. Dean could pinpoint when something was wrong, could pinpoint the exact reason of Sam's moods, which was why he was pressing this matter so strongly. Sam rarely ever disobeyed Dean, and he'd done it three times in a row. So yeah, Dean was angry, and Dean was worried. He took one of his brother's clenched fists gently.

"Sam," he coaxed, but Sam only blinked.

"Just a bad day Dean," Sam repeated, blowing out an annoyed breath. "School's hard, and it doesn't help with our lives."

Dean frowned-this arguement was so often that it was routine.

"I try my best for you. Dad and I, well, we try. You know we do. You know _I_ do." Sam instantly felt a clench of guilt in his stomach, so painful that it felt as if Dean had punched him. Cause, Dean was right. Dad often had him back from hunts for school, and important school days such as mid terms and assessment days. Dean always provided every essential thing that Sam needed for school. They tried, but often it just wasn't enough.

"I know," he whispered, and Dean let go of his fist.

"So long as you do." Dean looked carefully at him again, still searching.

"Sam, you know I'm here." he reminded gently. _'I'll always be here.' _

Sam grinned one of those rare, heart warming grins, so of course Dean had no other option but to smile back at him. The smile was beautiful, innocent, and just, well, his baby brother.

"I know. Me too." He then brushed past Dean, and this time Dean let him. John often told him that Dean always kept Sam on a tight leash, but it wasn't to scold him but to congragulate him. It was his duty to look after Sam, and he took pride in that. Sam was everything to Dean, it was a simple as that. Maybe he just had to tighten the leash to find out what was going on with him.

x.x.


	2. Chapter 2

"Samuel Winchester, who dressed you? Perhaps mummy should stick to that." Mr. Wells taunted, voice dripping with mockery.

Sam clenched his jaw in an effort not to speak out.

Dumb, dumb…as if clothes could hide you! Should have known by the raised eyebrows and taut mouth that Dean had supported when he stepped out of the bathroom was a hint that he was an _idiot_. He had wrapped his arms around himself and pushed past his brother, who looked as if he desperately wanted to say something. But, he didn't.

"I'm talking to you." Mr. Wells had walked over to him as the class continued on with their exercises. Sam's friend Will gave him a sympathetic look but continued running. Sam looked up at the teacher with a despondent look.

And let the words he had been screaming slip out.

"I don't care."

Mr. Wells looked like Christmas had come early.

"Another 5 laps for you!" Sam's mouth opened in protest. Yeah, he had been out of line but so had Mr. Wells for the past week.

"What-sir, I-" he tried to redeem himself.

"I don't care," the teacher mimicked him, a wicked grin on his lips. Sam shut up, eyes hardening, though supporting a dejected slump in shoulders.

"Sir, shouldn't-" Will began to try, and Sam shot him a look that clearly said, thanks but don't get yourself in trouble.

"Quiet-his rudeness earned that. Now onto the next activity-Sam can catch up."

William looked at him and shrugged, not wanting to fall behind himself and also become target to the teacher. Sam sighed and began jogging. Although his body was used to extreme workouts, he was tired. An hour of gym every second day, plus work outs when his dad was home was tiring-but what made it unbearable was the mental abuse his teacher was dishing out on him. The students told him not to take it personally, that Mr. Wells always targeted someone and usually it made them better in the end. But, what was wrong with them in the first place? Of course Sam found it very personal. He was sure Dean would, too.

He passed the females, who smiled at him in sympathy. Yeah they were sympathetic but they didn't do a damn thing about it. One of them, his friend Brooke, looked like she desperately wanted to say something, and even began to take a step towards him. He shook his head at her in warning, and she sighed before giving him a gentle smile and then turning from him. Sam crossed the line after his fifth lap, his legs wobbling slightly.

"Winchester-why are you stopping?" Sam closed his eyes, breathing deeply before opening them and turning to Mr. Wells, who was storming up to him.

"I've done my five." He rasped out.

"No one can do them as fast as that. Do it again."

Sam's fist ached with the desire to slam into the teacher's face. His body, already tense from the extra work out and now anger began to shake as he held himself back.

"Got something to say Sam?"

"Yes, I do! I've done an extra five, now I refuse to do another extra five, on top of the five we already did!" his voice vibrated across the room, bringing stillness as people watched in awe.

"Step outside, boy." Mr. Wells said through a menacing smile.

"Ah, no… changed my mind. I'll take the laps." Sam was quick to back down because of all the torment he had received and taken, never had Mr. Wells smiled at him like that. It sent warning alarms through him.

"Now!"

He spun on his heel and stomped out, followed closely.

"Get back to work!" He jumped slightly as the teacher's breath tickled his ear as he barked the order to the class before slamming the door.

Sam stood deathly still as the teacher began to pace around him, looking him up and down.

"Hold out your hand, Sam."

That wasn't what he was expecting. Confused and hesitantly, he did.

"Pull up your sleeves." Sam was breathing heavily now.

"Sir?" A nauseous feeling was spreading throughout him now, pumping adrenaline through him. He wanted to run, but it went against everything his family had taught him. So he stayed, staring wide eyed at Mr. Wells.

"Just do it." Sam complied, and Mr. Wells smiled before reaching for his pockets.

This felt wrong, and Sam couldn't move.

However he certainly did when a cane was brought across both arms, sending an echoing crack through the hallway. The pain screamed through him, or maybe that was just him screaming. Or beginning to anyway, before having a hand shoved against his mouth. The last time that had happened was with Dean, though it was in a gentle manner. His thoughts pulled him towards that memory, and away from the hallway for a brief, yet relieving moment.

_"Hurts, Dean." _

_Dean rubbed his arm, gripping onto his shoulder as if lending Sam his strength. _

_"I know buddy, but I have to clean out the cut. If you think this hurts, then you should feel it when it isn't cleaned, and gets infected." Sam felt his eyes go wide as he processed this._

_"Have you felt that?" Dean paused in the middle of his treatment._

_"Yeah I have. Which is why I'm not going to let it happen to you. Now hold still." Sam obeyed but his mouth didn't. Dean quickly put a clean hand there, careful not hurt his brother but hard enough to stop the noise._

_"Sam, please don't yell. I know it hurts but just...scratch me or bite me, whatever, but don't yell, okay?" Dean pulled his hand away._

_"Don't want to hurt you." Sam told him through thick wet eyelashes. Dean smiled._

_"It's okay Sammy, you used to do that when you were younger too. Old habits die hard, hey?" _

Sam was harshly brought back by Mr. Wells.

"This is my school. You, Samuel, are worthless. You are nothing but the dirt under my boots. You won't get anywhere. You hear me? Boys like you amount only to one thing: nothing."

He was reaching for Sam's shirt now, and Sam was too clumsy with disbelief and pain to stop the second attack, which brought himt o his knees. And then his boot was in the wound, and tears were rolling down his face.

"Stop-please!" he breathed out.

Another kick.

Sam couldn't believe it, a teacher, a trusted authority abusing their power for their own dark desires. He really had the worst of luck. It seemed that since he always got taken out by supernatural things, that he would now be taken out by non supernatural beings.

One last kick in his back and Mr. Wells bent to Sam's level. Sam curled himself into a ball as one weak attempt to protect himself.

"Nothing, you understand? I expect to see you tomorrow. If you want to be an A student….how does that do you for you?"

"Yes sir," Sam's voice was ragged and Mr Wells hauled the boy to his feet. Sam's body protested, and he grabbed Mr. Well's shirt, trying to pull himself away. But in such agonizing pain his strength failed him.

"Not a word, got it?"

"Crystal clear," Sam hissed back as he pulled himself together. Shouldn't be too hard-_suck it up Sam, you're a_ Winchester _not a_ Whinec_hester._

"Good, now in you go." Sam's movements were stiff at first, though his trained body quickly got past it, and the screams from his injuries were now just whispers.

x.

x.

Sam sank into the car, carefully leaning his sore body into the comfortable seat of the Impala. Dean was watching him carefully.

"What's the matter with you?"

Seam peaked an eye open.

"Tired. Homework and research had me up late."

Dean started the car, and Sam relaxed in the silence as he thought the trial of questions were over.

Oh, no.

"How were your classes?" Dean's voice had an edge to it, and Sam sat up straight to look at him, careful not to expose his injuries.

Dean knew something. This Dean was scary too, you didn't know when the ticking bomb would explode, so you didn't know when to run away. But Sam could hardly jump out of a moving car, no matter how tempting the idea was…

"Fine…" he drawled, waiting.

He wasn't disappointed.

"Yeah? Any hard classes? Or,_ teachers_."

Sam closed his eyes.

"Told you I'd find out Sammy." Dean's voice was dark.

"Nothing to it. Mr. Wells is hard ass on everyone."

"Making you run an extra five laps, and then repeat it because he didn't believe you isn't hard ass. That's downright harassment Sam." Dean's fists were clenched around the wheel now, the stony look on his face that warned Sam to proceed very carefully.

"It's worse than it sounds, Dean. He's just, like that."

Dean glanced over at him, the stony look now a feral one.

"Sam I'm not going to stand for it."

"Dean I wanted a normal life, this is normal. Some teachers suck. You have to leave this alone."

"Don't like it Sammy." Dean told him. Dark Dean was scarier than most because any emotion could come out and you didn't know what to expect. But if Dean was dark and it had something to do with Sam Winchester, you can bet something was going to go down.

"Please." Dean looked over at Sam again from the corner of his eye, though still thorough enough to make Sam nervous.

"He hurt you?"

"What? No! Just sore from the laps. Let it go."

"Dunno if I can do that Sam. He the reason you had bad days?"

"No." There was silence as Dean thought and Sam looked straight ahead.

"Dunno if I believe you Sammy."

"Trust me. Please," Sam begged. He needed Dean to leave this alone.

Dean pulled up at the motel. Sam eagerly went to climb out, but Dean met him at the door. He grabbed his brother by the arms and pushed him gently against the car. Sam froze and gulped as his brother looked him sternly in the eyes.

"You tell me everything that happens. If I find out again from someone else Sam, I won't be impressed. We understood?" There was no subtle warning but a full blown one that was so clear that it rang through Sam's ears long after Dean had enforced it.

Sam repeated words.

"Crystal clear."


End file.
